I had the chance to visit Coi for the first time last week. My thoughts on the meal are below, and the photos can be seen HERE. “Suck it up,” a friend and fellow blogger told me. “I think Coi has the potential to impress us.” Quite a reasonable reaction to my unreasonable hypocrisy. You see, I was just back from a trip to Paris, and suddenly I was Mr. Popular. I’d gotten mail from MasterCard and Citibank on the same day, and they both wanted to know how my trip had gone! Suddenly it seemed everybody wanted to talk to me, and I let it get to my head. These financial… souvenirs made me wonder if perhaps there was a better time to try a restaurant that carries a $120 minimum tariff. Any time I spend that kind of money in the Bay Area, I tend to play it safe and head back to my happy place. But Chuck was right this time. What did I have to lose? If I’d cross the Atlantic to go to dinner without the slightest consideration of the associated consequences, there’s nothing that should keep me from the same sort of exploration closer to home. And so it was that we found ourselves at Coi last week. We sat down and filled in our ballots for the dishes on the 11-course menu that had an A-or-B choice. We ordered a bottle of 1997 Max Ferdinand Richter Graacher Himmelreich Riesling Spätlese (for a mere 240% of the retail price!). And the parade of plates began. The first bite was called MILK & HONEY, and it was exactly that. The two ingredients made up a small liquid-filled sphere surrounded by a thin membrane. We were told to first smell the star lily flower, since its honeysuckle-like aroma was a preview of the flavors in the sphere. It was a sweet and creamy beginning to the meal, deftly balanced by just the slightest touch of salt. Visually, the next course was like a pumped-up version of the first, but the flavor and texture were quite different. The combination of PINK GRAPEFRUIT ginger, tarragon, black pepper was sweet, tart, bitter and slightly spicy. Pink grapefruit gel was topped with a thick foam spiked with ginger and black pepper essential oils. I loved not only the taste of this, but also how it felt in my mouth. The combination of the gel and foam had a textural character that really made the flavors linger. There was also a dab of Coi perfume — no I am not kidding — on the plate. We were told to rub it on our wrists before eating this course, but I didn’t feel like it added much to the experience. That quibble aside, I really enjoyed this. We were in for a pleasant surprise now, since we had both chosen the other menu option for the next dish. But the waiter smiled when he set the KAMPACHI SASHIMI white soy, yuzu, shichimi togarashi in front of us. The chef would like for us to try the whole menu, he said, so we would be having everything. Sweet. The fish here was fresh and well-seasoned. A small radish on the side was a crunchy, piquant palate cleanser. There was nothing wrong with this simple course, but for me it wasn’t as compelling as the ones that preceded it. As much as I badmouth my new home state of California, it’s nice to live in a place where Spring actually begins in March. And the next course was a vibrant reminder of that: ASPARAGUS PANNA COTTA coconut milk, makrut lime leaf, cilantro. Under a layer of creamy coconut milk panna cotta was a purée of asparagus juice, blanched asparagus, olive oil, and vegetable stock, all set with gelatin. The shaved ribbons of asparagus and radish on the side tasted as bright and refreshing as the panna cotta. And though the lime leaf and cilantro lifted the flavors of those vegetables, I think an extra hit of acidity in the panna cotta itself would’ve made a nice difference. The DAIRY FRESH GOAT CHEESE TART beets, dill, caraway was a refreshing spin on a dish that sounded kind of boring on paper. The tart crust was made with dehydrated and ground pumpernickel, ground caraway, and rye flour. A layer of fresh goat cheese inside was topped with goat cheese mousse, so the range of textures was fantastic. Red beet purée and roasted golden beets, fresh dill, and caraway seed all went really nicely with the tart. The intriguingly titled OCEAN AND EARTH lobster in two textures, sea palm, cauliflower, borage came next. There were small pieces of lobster cooked sous vide with lobster oil, and noodles cut from lobster consommé gel infused with konbu and a little bonito. There were a few types of both raw and cooked seaweed, pickled cauliflower, borage, and a cauliflower-seaweed purée. My favorite part of the dish was the delicious purée, but I wonder if the textures of the lobster wouldn’t have been better appreciated without it. The subtle sweetness of the lobster was given more richness by the dashi-like infusion in the gel, but I’m not sure the cauliflower was enough to hold up the “earth” end of the title here. The next dish was new to the menu, the waiter said, so he wanted our honest feedback on the CHILLED ENGLISH PEA SOUP creamy ricotta, lemon, nasturtiums. It turned out that my only complaint here was with myself — both for the Puritanic restraint I showed in not asking for a second bowl, and for lacking the healthy curiosity one should always have about whether or not the second bowl could be quite as delicious as the first. The flavor of the soup was exactly like the color — vibrant and green. The housemade ricotta was delicious and the lemon brought a bright top-note to every spoonful. Chuck and I both agreed this was the highlight of the savory portion of the meal. This was followed by a course I wasn’t as crazy about: WARM SALAD OF SHAVED ARTICHOKES, FAVA BEANS AND LEAVES carolina gold rice, green garlic, baby leeks, mint. I did enjoy the fact that it was served warm, and I liked the texture that the rice lent to the dish. But I guess for me the flavors didn’t really come together how I had expected they would. The taste of the artichoke became a kind of one-note tune, not really changing or developing with the other accompaniments. I should point out that Chuck disagreed with me on this one, so maybe he’s got more of a predilection for artichokes than I do. I was excited about the HODO SOY YUBA ‘PAPPARDELLE’ chantenay carrots, baby fennel, flowering bok choy, vadouvan. I know that tofu skin may conjure up some scary images for people, but a restaurant in Tokyo I visited a few months ago taught me that it can be a beautiful thing. Long wide ribbons of yuba were floating here in a vadouvan-scented broth, along with pieces of very flavorful baby vegetables. I loved the yuba “noodles”, which had the delicate texture of fresh pasta. And I thought the broth and the vegetables made for a very tasty soup. Chuck disagreed, since he didn’t think the vadouvan flavor really came through. But I think my only complaint with the dish was in the naming. Seeing the word “pappardelle” on the menu had me expecting a plate of pasta; not noodles floating around in a broth. But honestly if that is not nit-picking, I don’t know what is. If I had wanted traditional pasta before, we got it anyway with the BLACK TRUMPET RAVIOLO celery root, flowering chervil, hazelnut, perigord truffle. I thought for a second about how not too many years ago, before the attempts at Italian cuisine in this country and before even your local neighborhood restaurant had a chef’s tasting menu, most people wouldn’t have known the singular form of “ravioli”. Then I realized I am a food nerd, and I should really get a life. In any case, it turned out the menu description here was like a USDA-approved food label — the ingredients were listed from most to least prominent. The mushrooms in the filling were flavorful, the celery root foam made a nice condiment, and bits of chopped hazelnut brought a very welcome bit of crunch. Unfortunately any truffle flavor or aroma was AWOL, granted it was late April so a look at the calendar could have predicted as much. Overall, another course that was good but not great. Next we had a cooked fish course: the SAUTEED MADARA manila clams, agretti, red endive, smoked oil. Madara is another name for Pacific cod, and here it was cooked pretty well. The flesh was fork-tender and flaky, though a much crispier skin would have been nice. The fish rested in a small pool of tasty clam broth-based sauce dotted with smoked oil. The salad on the side was acidic, salty and slightly bitter, and I thought it went well with the fish. I don’t think Chuck was too thrilled with this dish, but I found it to be pretty tasty. Another sure sign of spring was the MORELS slow cooked beck farms partridge egg, spring onions, pea shoots. These mushrooms are among my favorites: spongy in a good way, and a fantastic vehicle for the flavors around them. The morel broth they were served with here was given some extra thickness and richness from the runny egg yolk. A few tiny croûtons scattered around the plate brought some much-needed crunch, and the onions and greens were tender with a subtle natural sweetness. Still, I’m not sure all of this amounted to anything more than the sum of its parts. Don’t get me wrong — it was good, I just wasn’t crazy about it like I thought I might be. Next we had two different cuts of POZZI FARM LAMB baby turnips, bloomsdale spinach, chicory. There was a slice of loin meat (probably cooked sous vide judging from the uniform pink inside) and a fat chunk of braised shoulder meat. The shoulder meat was really dry and kind of bland, although I thought the chicory sprinkled on it was a nice touch. The loin on the other hand was quite good. Very tender and flavorful, I only wish there had been more of it. I also thought the sautéed spinach, chicory and flame raisins were nice as a sweet counterpoint to the rich lamb jus. Looking at the menu, I didn’t have a clue what CAVATINA (SOYOUNG SCANLAN) peppercress sprouts was going to be, but it turned out it was a cheese course. Soyoug Scanlan is the cheesemaker at Andante Dairy with a penchant for giving her cheeses musical names like nocturne, minuet, and in this case cavatina. I don’t remember the waiter’s description of this cheese, but if I had to guess I’d say it was goat’s milk. It had a semi-firm paste, an ashed rind, and a slightly tangy flavor. Not life-changing, but pretty good. Pre-dessert came as a tall shot of ORANGE SODA. A simple housemade soda made with orange juice, sugar, and a little salt. It was topped off with crème fraîche that had bubbled up like an ice cream float, so it was a little difficult to get the drink out without a spoon. But once I did, it was a refreshing transition to the sweeter end of the meal. The first dessert was a tasty wake-up call. Raised eyebrows and smiling faces were our first reactions to the CARROT CAKE carrot ganache, celery sherbet. This was fabulous — the carrot ganache, the moist cake, the celery sherbet — everything. Just the right level of sweetness, and a surprising show-stealer. This was my favorite course of the meal. I’m not really a chocolate guy, but the MICHEL CLUIZEL “LOS ANCONES” GANACHE albion strawberries, wild licorice anglaise was great, too. The bittersweet ganache had rich chocolaty flavor that really lingered. The texture was almost like a thick mousse, keeping it from being too heavy. The strawberries tasted like actual strawberries, which is a big complement considering the flavorless watery impostors by the same name that one might find at the local supermarket. The licorice-spiked custard sauce was delicious. But even those two delectable desserts were almost trumped by the McEVOY OLIVE OIL MILKSHAKE chocolate truffle. A non-custard based vanilla ice cream was blended with sweet buttermilk, vanilla-infused olive oil, and salt. The result was truly fantastic. After each sip was the buttery olive oil was what coated my mouth, rather than the lingering creaminess that you might get from a typical milkshake. The chocolate truffle on the side was nice, too, with a few coarse grains of salt on top to tame the sweetness. I can’t say enough good things about the shake, though, except to say that we asked for a second round posthaste. The meal, I’ll admit, was a bit disjointed. Many dishes seemed to be on the cusp of something great, but few made the leap over the edge. And I’m not sure there was a unifying sense of direction in what we’d tasted. But honestly, maybe there didn’t need to be one. Chuck had insisted that Chef Daniel Patterson’s food had the potential to be impressive, and in the end, I found myself impressed by its potential. I have a lot of respect for the handful of Bay Area chefs with enough ambition and imagination to eschew being just another Chez Panisse derivative. Coi has the same great ingredients, even listing their provenance on a menu page of their own. But Patterson has the audacity to take these foods and do something beyond putting raw vegetables on a plate and calling it salad, or fresh fruit in a bowl and calling it dessert. His food has flashes of simplicity and flashes of technology, but both suggest a chef concerned not only with extracting flavors, but also with accentuating texture and exposing aroma (he wrote the book on it, in fact). And that suggests to me that Coi is a place well worth revisiting.
